


Humour

by Cheloya



Category: Fruits Basket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheloya/pseuds/Cheloya
Summary: Old, imported. Shigure and Ayame need to stop. Hatori has never been the best at humour.





	Humour

It started out as a game, something that would annoy Ayame's mother. They had resented her for her harsh treatment of the Snake, and it had been Shigure's idea (of course) to prove to the woman once and for all that Ayame didn't need her at all, was better off without her.

It had started as a game.

Hatori had not found it amusing, although he had appreciated its effect on the woman in question. It was unfortunate, the fact that it made Hatori seem, at times, like a third wheel on a bicycle, the fact that - as the most serious member of their little troupe - often he was unsure of what to make of their antics; often he was not sure when they had passed from serious to joking or back again.

It was because of that confusion that, generally, he chose not to participate in their games, sitting on the sidelines and enjoying the side-effects with wry amusement, or else sighing with mildly embarrassed resignation as they went too far (again) for his tastes. It was because of that confusion, and the fact that he remained quiet due to it, that he had earned his reputation for coldness. That mild confusion was why people believed Shigure when he (jokingly) exclaimed, "Oh, Hatori, you're so _boring!_ "

It was because of that confusion that Yuki and Kyou both stared desperately across the breakfast table at him, hoping, pleading for him to do something about the throatily murmured double-entendres going on behind them. Hatori was the Sensible One, the Reliable One, the _Boring_ One; surely he could put a stop to this madness?

There was something mildly amusing about the identical expressions of desperate exasperation on their faces. Hatori set down his cup.

"Shigure. Ayame. Stop that."

Ayame, bless him, spun around at once with golden eyes agleam, dropping Shigure's hands as though they had burned to touch. "Yes, 'Tori-san!" He made to take his place next to Shigure's habitual seat at the table, but Hatori's raised hand froze him in his tracks.

"Come over here." He gestured at the space beside him, and was torn between smirking at the relief on Yuki's face, and genuinely smiling at the delight upon Ayame's.

The Snake was already loudly chattering as he rounded the table and made to sit down, one hand going to Hatori's shoulder for support he surely did not need, graceful as he was. But Hatori grasped it lightly, and Ayame's voice halted immediately, recognising the strangeness in the caress. Carefully, Hatori drew that pale hand, and the rest of the Snake, slowly into his lap, watching from the corner of his eye as the two youthful faces opposite him paled in horror.

He had to close his eyes when he kissed Ayame, of course - politeness dictated that much. He nearly forgot his purpose in that moment when Aaya's surprised stiffness faded, and that warm, eager mouth opened under his own, but when the Snake drew back for breath, ducking to press his face into the curve of the Dragon's shoulder, his entire frame trembling within Hatori's arms, the darker man glanced across the table at Yuki and Kyou.

What he saw caused him to make a very ungentlemanly snort as a chuckle escaped his mouth. "You ought to see your faces," he told them without reserve. They truly were a picture; Hatori was sure that he had never seen Yuki's eyes so wide, not even when he had been threatened once (only jokingly) with a hypodermic needle.

Shigure let out a delighted peal of laughter, which went on and on - he never _could_ stop, once he started - and keeled over onto the floor. Kyou stood without a word and stormed from the room. Yuki just blinked, his expression of shock fading into something more dangerous - and unexpected.

Ayame had gone similarly still.

It was gone in an instant as he turned and saw that expression on Yuki's face; Hatori watched as he leaned conspiratorially across the tabletop.

"Dear brother, don't be that way - you mustn't be jealous. Tori-san just loves me best!"

He pushed himself up and away with a mad-sounding giggle, and exited the room in a customary flurry of movement. Hatori retrieved his tea and took a meditative sip.

"My apologies, Yuki, but I simply could not resist."

Yuki's eyes were cold as he stared at the doctor, and Hatori paused a moment to consider, to wonder at the truth behind Ayame's excited phone calls and instant messages, to wonder at the reason for the ice in Yuki's eyes.

"I don't think I'm the one who needs an apology, Hatori-sensei."

He left Hatori with realisation in his eyes, and followed his brother from the room.


End file.
